The Only Best Thing
by mangobunnies
Summary: The only thing I want is to be left alone. Is that too much to ask? Apparently, it is, especially when you can't help falling in love with the stranger who lives next door. [KatnissxCato- MODERN DAY FIC]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey reader, I see you've decided to drop in on my first modern day fanfic. Have no fear! I will not disappoint you! (well, I might, I'm not entirely sure what else you guys read, anyways.) **

**Just FYI before you get started: This is not rushed, and if at all, it may be a little slow paced, so just bear with me? thanks :D**

**XO,**  
**-mangobunnies-**

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Well, that's the last of them.

Now that all the boxes have been cleared out, I have no clue what to do. Prim usually doesn't like me touching her stuff, for whatever reason, and as for my mother... I'm not sure if I can stand be in the same room as her right now.

I plunk myself down on my bed and glance around my very plain room. The walls were painted a purple so pale that it could be called grey, and the wood floor wasn't really anything special to admire, either. My bed was just a bed at the back left corner by an averaged-sized window with blank white sills. I had placed a pale green oval rug next to my bed, which my mother got me, to try and lighten the mood a little, but the room just looks dull as ever. The only thing that sort of stands out from all the blandness is my black leather guitar case, which leans against the end of my bed. I don't really feel like playing it, so I just stare at it, because it's the only thing worth staring at.

So I guess this is what it's like to be completely and utterly bored.

"Katniss? Are you finished yet?" I hear my mother call.

"Yeah," I respond in a tone so lame it could be comparable to my room.

"Why don't you find something to do while Prim and I finish up?"

"Like what," This comes out rougher than I intended it to be, and I hear her sigh from the other room.

"Why don't you go for a walk- get some fresh air before supper?"

"Okay, where's the key?" I holler back.

"In the glass fruit bowl on the counter. Don't be out for more than an hour, but tell me if you are. And take your phone with you-"

"I get it. I'll be back in an hour," I snap at her.

I grab my messenger bag and drop my phone, wallet, and a book in it. Then I snatch the key from the bowl and head out of the new house.

As soon as I get to the intersection at the end of our street, I realize I have absolutely no clue where I'm going. I decide to turn right, and I continue on walking, eventually letting my mind start to wander.

Prim, my mother, and I just moved in from Canada, way the hell out in the west coast. When my mother found out that she got the job in a top hospital somewhere in the US (I still don't know where, but not that I would actually admit that, right?), we immediately packed our things and left. And when I say immediately, I mean it.

We moved out in less than four weeks.

I realized that I didn't really have much to bring, because so much of it would be useless here in the US. So I got rid of most of what I had (mainly by giving it to Prim), and ended up with five pairs of pants, three pairs of shoes, a small variety of shirts/tops, a bookcase of my favourite books, and my father's guitar- just to name a few.  
And while Prim's living it up with all the hand-me-downs that I gladly donated to her, I'm starting to wander if I actually might need some of it back.

Before I know it, I've come across an area of stores and shops that has seemed to magically appear out of nowhere. Slipping out of the daydream I had, I walk into a diner called "Lavinia's" and order a chocolate milkshake, which happens to be better than the ones across the border... on the other side of the country. I continue strolling up the road, sipping my milkshake and occasionally gnawing on my straw.

I wonder what school will be like. I'm sure it will be different- Prim now has three more years left before she goes to high school. But I'm just worried about... well, the other kids. In my school. I'm not really sure how to put this, but I just don't want them to think I'm different than them, or start treating me like I'm not a... "regular teenager" just because I'm from Canada. A good part of me doubts this will happen, but there's something bugging me that says they will.

A car horn honks on the road, bringing me out of my second daydream. I look up to see that I'm at Maine Street, where busy shoppers rush around with shopping bags strung on their arms.

As I aimlessly wander down Maine Street, the clothing stores call to me one by one, with the flashing signs and bright, stylish clothes that I would've died for before we moved. Sweets shops stand out with their childish colours contrasting together. When I get to the next intersection, a small, store stands with no customers. The slightly rusty sign says, "District 7 Stationary & Art Supplies", and out of curiosity and boredom, I push open the wooden door and walk in.

"Welcome to District 7's very best Stationary," The girl from behind the counter drones lousily. It's obvious she's dying to get out of here, she's made that clear.

I pace around the store, roaming the shelves filled with packs of paper folders, notebooks, sketchbooks, planners, and art supplies. I spot a shelf of leather bound, rich-coloured journals near the door. I pick out a dark green book and flip through the pages lined in brown. The journal is outlined with small, shimmering gold stitches that make it's appearance more vibrant-

"That one's $15," The girl calls from behind the counter. "But I'll give it to you for 10."

I shut the book and run my hand along the leathery surface once more, then respond to her offer. "Thanks, I'll take it."

"Great, just don't tell a soul I cut you back five bucks, or I'm a dead woman, you hear?" Her voice gradually turns into a hiss, which was a little creepy, but I wasn't just going to let that bother me.

"All loud and proud," I smile, making my way up to the counter to pay. "Hey, do you happen to have any pens?"

"Honey, we're a stationary store. You think we're going to carry pens," the girl reaches over the counter to a plastic container of assorted pens. "Seventy cents each," she adds.

I pick out three- a simple black ballpoint for me, and stainless-steels for my mother and Prim, green and yellow.

"Thank you..." my voice trails off trying to read the girl's name tag. "Johanna," I say finally.

"Nah, just call me Jo. The extra "hanna" at the end is pointless," she waves me off.

"Okay, _Jo. _Thanks for the stuff," I smile at her and she snorts. "Ha, don't thank me, I did the bear minimum."

"What?" I ask her, confused.

"Nothing, 'cause you weren't listening. Now, if you're not going to buy anything else, then I suggest you-"

"I'm on my way, don't worry," I interrupt her.

"Alrighty then, I guess I'll see you around?"

"At school?"

"Yeah, where else, brainless?"

"Oh, um, yeah, sure... Bye, Jo," I mutter back in the silence of the shop.

"See you later brainless," Jo smiles at the new nickname she's given me, which I'm not particularly fond of.

"My name's Katniss," I say loudly, turning my back on her.

With the journal and pens in my bag, I exit the store and head straight home, knowing that I have about fifteen minutes before my mother starts worrying again. Once I somehow manage to navigate myself back to the house, supper is about to be served. We all eat in silence, and not even Prim wants to break the silence. When we finish, just before they go disappear into their own worlds, I give them the pens. Prim squeals in excitement, and my mother beams proudly, even though they're just _pens_.

I don't realize how much of a rush I'm in to open my journal until I actually arrive in my room upstairs. I pull out my phone, earbuds, pen, and journal from my bag, put on Paramore, and open the dark green book to the first page. I write the date just because I feel like it, then begin with my first entry.

_Dear Diary,..._

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**So how was it? remember to r&r how I did! again, first modern day, might not have been much of a first chapter, but it's something! xo**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I know not a lot of ppl have read my first chapter, but IDC IM STILL GONNA UPDATE CUZ I LOVE THIS STORY :) **

**thanks to ALL OF YOU who have cared to read my second chapter-thanks for bearing with meeeee 3**

**Anyways, here's chapter 2!**

**XO,**  
**-mangobunnies-**

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"Katniss, wake up."

I feel a set of small hands lightly shake my side as a gentle high-pitched voice speaks. The only person that would be capable of making that sound who I know would be... _Prim_. Still, my body doesn't move. Why is there any reason for anyone to wake up this early...?

"Katniss, please, Mom went to work hours ago,"

I shift myself to face Prim as my eyes flutter open reluctantly. I groan and wipe the sleep from my eyes.

"What time is it," I whisper sleepily, and she responds in a pleading tone.

"We're gonna be late."

"What?" I squint my eyes at her confusedly.

"First day of school!" she bursts out.

"Oh shi- help me, will you?" I quickly catch myself. Prim's ears are still too innocent for my eleventh-grade-vocabulary.

She goes to grab a pair of jeans and a tank top from my over-sized closet as I haul myself out of bed, my eyes still heavy. As I'm pulling on my jeans, she goes to grab my black leather jacket that I haven't worn since my father died. When she turns around to hand it to me, I freeze for a few seconds before shaking my head.

"It's too intimidating for a new girl," I say pulling my top over my head.

"How so?" She asks ever so sweetly.

"You'll find out when you're in high school, Prim, don't worry. Now can you hand me a different hoodie, please?" I ask her. She hangs my jacket back on the rack and gives me a maroon hoodie instead.

When I finish, I slide into my navy converse all-stars as Prim heads down stairs to get me something to eat. I glance at myself briefly in the mirror. With the clothes we so randomly picked out, I look about as lively as a dead slug. But at this point I don't really care too much about my clothing- I just wanted to get this first day over with.

And what a better way than anything to start it off being late.

"Prim, you ready?" I call out the door as I gather my phone, wallet, and a random book off my shelf.

"Yeah, I peeled you an orange. There are granola bars on the counter, if you still want more," she calls back.

"Sure, thanks."

I fling the strap of my bag over my shoulder and slide the pouch off my desk. As I do, I notice the dark green leather book stitched with gold. I hesitate before grabbing the book and pen and shoving it in with the rest of my things. Then I flock downstairs toward the door, ready for whatever my first day of school has in store for me.

~;~

"Welcome, Miss Everdeen! You may call me Miss Trinket or Effie, which ever tickles your fancy!" The overly-peppy lady from the reception trills. She hands me my schedule and locker number. "Have a wonderful year, darling!"

"Thanks, I'm sure I will," I say politely, trying my best to return her smile. She beams at me as I leave the office into the hallway.

I try my best to stay out of everyone's way as they come barreling down the halls toward their friends. About three minutes passes and I still haven't moved farther than five steps ahead. I have about ten more minutes to find my locker and locate my first class- and at the rate I'm going right now, I wouldn't be done until noon.

"Hey, Brainless!" I hear a familiar voice holler from behind me. I whip around to see the girl who sold me the journal- Johanna.

"Hey!" I yell back over the noise around me. She pushes other people out of the way as she moves towards me, and some of them just move out of her way in advance.

"Where're you headed to?" she grabs my schedule before I even grasp the opportunity to respond.

"Locker 356, hey? Here, I'm headed that way anyways, I'll walk you up," she offers.

"Thanks," I say. Then suddenly, her hand shoots out to grab my wrist, and I'm being dragged through the sea of people flooding down the hall in every direction. Jo is pushing her way through forcefully, as if they were all old toys a child was throwing away.

Eventually, we reach the opposite side of the building on the next floor up. Jo stops in front of a classroom doorway, finally releasing my wrist from her iron grip.

"Well, this is my stop right here. Your locker's around here, I guess," she says to me then sighs tiredly. "So, see you around." She turns to walk into what I think is her homeroom.

"Wait! Jo," I exclaim. She turns around with an expression on her face that says_ 'what now?'_

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen. Twelfth grade," she replies boringly, then walks away without another word, leaving me to find my locker by myself.

~;~

_Dear Diary,_

_Got our first long-term writing_  
_assignment for this semester. We have to write at least two anonymous letters per week to a person we pulled out of a hat. God help the person who got me- I'm about as exciting as a brick._

_I have no clue who I pulled from the hat. His name is Cato Evans. All I know is that he's not in the same English period as I am. I've never heard his name before, but I might ask Jo later. _

_But seriously, what are you supposed to say in a letter to someone you've never met before? 'We don't even know each other so let me just say how awkward these next few weeks will be'. Actually, come to think of it, that wouldn't be such a bad thing to say to Cato. It's not like he's gonna do anything bad to me because of anything I write. He has no clue who I am, and I can only hope it stays that way forever. _

_I wonder what will happen if I ever meet him. Just the thought of it makes me laugh. But just a little. Maybe he's sweet as sugar, like Prim is. Or maybe he's a douche and harder than diamonds. I guess I'll never know. I don't intend on meeting Mr. Evans anytime soon, no less than I want to reveal my identity to this whole frickin school. _

_Well, the bell just rang, so back to hell for me. See you tomorrow._

_Yours Truly,_

_Katniss E._

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**I feel like this chapter was pretty long... :/ are you getting restless much...**  
**Again, thanks so much to the very few ppl who read this! r&r! xo**


	3. Chapter 3

**I WILL NEVER GIVE UP. still updating, only a few reads and ONE REVIEW (thanks InLuvWithHG for that :)- I had to get this up, even if it's only been an hour since i published this whole thing :} I'm actually curious to see where I will go with this story, and I might start writing another one later on... but that wont be for A LONG WHILE.**

**Now you'll all get to see why it's rated T. bwahahahaa :)**

**Happy reading chapter 3!**

**-mangobunnies- **

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"Prim I'm home!" I slam the door and holler upstairs. Her bag is on the counter along with the spare key in the fruit bowl.

"Hi," she yells back. I walk to her room to find her lying on her bed, doing her homework.

"Already? Didn't think they'd assign anything that heavy on the first day," I gesture to her notebook.

"Nah, it's due in like, two weeks. I've got nothing else to do, and there's no time like the present, right?" she smiles, then asks me, "How was your first day?"

"It was good, thanks for asking. Did you make any new friends?" I lean on her door frame, crossing my arms over my chest. She puts the notebook down in front of her and sits up to face me.

"Never mind about me, I'm technically still in elementary... I wanna know what high school's like," I laugh at this. She couldn't possibly be asking me this.

"It's not that much different from middle school, Primrose," I feel like calling her by here full name now, even though it pisses her off. I can tell this drives her crazy just by look that she gives me.

"Well, that explains a lot, doesn't it, Ms. Everdeen," she replies sarcastically.

"Ooh, getting feisty there, aren't you, Primmy," she scowls as only Prim can. She's too delicate to take her retorts seriously, so I end up laughing and giggling at her. "Since when were you like this?" I say between laughs.

"Like what?" her eyes shine innocently, but she tries to be cold and mischievous at the same time. I just stare at her, then resume laughing. She sighs, then says, annoyed, "Don't you have anything better to do? Like, homework, or anything?"

"Yeah, I do, but seriously, who wants to write a letter to a stranger?"

"Go do something else. I'm hungry," she whines.

"You know, the fridge is right there," I step aside from the door, and gesturing to an imaginary path to the fridge. She chucks a pillow at me, and exclaims, "I thought you were my big sister!"

"Oh, do your homework. I'll go get us some ice cream," I swat the air at her with my hand, and turn to get changed into my shorts. I really need to get out of these clothes- as I found out during lunch, the weather here is a lot warmer than it is in Canada.

As I leave to go upstairs, I hear Prim laugh triumphantly. "I get the bigger scoop, though!" I call down to her. She groans loudly, and I feel myself smirk.

While I'm pulling on my boots, she yells after me, "I still want my pillow back, you know!"

"I'm sorry, what's that princess? You don't want any ice cream?" I holler sarcastically.

"Hey! I want ice-cream!" she comes out of her room and picks up the pillow on the floor in the doorway.

"Thought so," I mutter, just loud enough so she can hear.

"So, the usual: strawberry in a cup?"

"Yes please!" she bubbles, sounding much more like herself.

"Okay, little duck." I refer to her old nickname I gave her, and she gives a small quack, like she always used to do.

I grab my bag without emptying it, and head up the street toward Maine Street.

~;~

"Heya there, welcome to Dolly's Ice Cream Parlour. What can I get 'chya?" a plump woman behind the counter greets me with a strange accent.

Dolly's is the largest ice cream shop that I have ever seen. They have at least forty different flavours of ice cream, and sell gelato, milkshakes, and floats. The walls are painted pink, and the booths are outlined with orange, yellow, and a pretty turquoise that Prim would love. It takes forever for me to find the strawberry ice cream, and when I do, there are another five variations of it. In the end, I order what I hope won't disappoint her.

"Can I please have one scoop of strawberry sorbet in a cup, and-" at that moment, the door flings open recklessly, and four tall, muscular boys walk in, pushing each other giddily and laughing obnoxiously. They all walk towards where I am, and the tallest of them stands uncomfortably close to me. They seem to ignore that the fact that I'm standing right in front of them, getting ice cream before them.

"Hey, Aunt Dolly," the skinniest on says.

"Oh, hiya' there, Marvel. How was ya' day?"

"Great. Now can we please have three double chocolate milkshakes-"

"Excuse me, I was just ordering-" I'm quickly cut off by the tallest one moving even closer to me, forcing me down on the glass ice cream case, causing me to give an exhasperated gasp.

"Hey, get off me, jerk!"

"Can we have the milkshakes, and a banana split? We're pretty hungry- ya' know, first day of school and all... yeah, that..." the other boy is trying to distract his aunt while the rest of the boys push me around.

I shove the tall one out of my way, which doesn't have the effect I was hoping for.

"Getting ice cream, are you? Too bad you can't get until we're gone- looks like your just gonna have to wait," he taunts. He towers over my head and is pretty much five times my size, but why would I have any reason to be scared? Who is this douche to just come and ram their way in front of me?

"Get the hell out of my way. I was here first," I growl, through clenched teeth.

"What if I don't?" He smirks at me, then moves toward me until I'm trapped in a corner. Oh, the nerve of this guy...

"My foot'll have a date with your ass. Which won't be so comfortable on your end, buddy," I spit out at him.

"Some nerve you got there, Ms. Feisty!" He taunts.

"What the hell is it you want, asshole?" I try and give him the look Johanna gave me earlier that day. This seems to set off a bomb, and he suddenly moves his hands toward my neck, saying, "You asked for it, bitch..."

Before he can even get a firm grip around my windpipe, Dolly interrupts loudly.

"A scoop o' strawberry sorbet in a cup, is it?"

The boy freezes in front of me, dropping his arms as soon as he hear's Dolly's voice.

"Yes. And a double scoop of chocolate marble, in a waffle cone, please," I respond, not taking my eyes off the boy.

"Sure can do, sweetheart," she replies enthusuastically.

Meanwhile, I hear Marvel and the other two boys sigh. One of them even rolls their eyes.

But I don't stop staring at the boy in front of me. If looks could kill, this would be a pretty close showdown. I don't care how close we are- he is, under no circumstances, winning this match.

Eventually, he blinks and briefly looks away. I smirk triumphantly when he looks back, and he narrows his eyes at me, while pointing his finger.

"This isn't over yet, bitch," he hisses. It's almost comical- watching the four of them act all tough while the buffest of them tries to intimidate me. I lean in and keep the smirk plastered on my face as I sneer,

"Kiss my ass,"

Then I shove him out of the way to get my ice cream. I hear a different voice behind me respond seductively, "Gladly." I turn around and flip the bird to the three boys behind me, and Marvel chuckles.

"Yeah, you too, princess," I say to him. That shut him up pretty quick.

When I recieve my ice cream, Dolly winks at me, and whispers, "'Atta girl! Go get 'em, tiger." I smile, thank her, and turn to leave.

"Ses ya' around, Fire Girl," The boy retorts one last time.

"My name's not fire girl," I defend myself.

"Who says I could,'t call you Fire Girl, Fire Girl?"

I hesitate, thinking whether I should reveal my name. But I realize that I'm too mad to care.

I push the door open with my back, still facing them. Right before I drift out the door, I say playfully with an arrogant smile on my face,

"Katniss Everdeen just did."

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**r&r my lovelies 3 xo**


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4 HAS ARRIVED! wrote most of this last night, but I edited it today. I meant to put it up earlier, but i just kept getting caught up.**

**Anyways, here it is! **

**-mangobunnies- **

**(Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games, it all belongs to suzanne collins :)**

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"Here's your ice cream," I say flatly, putting the cup sloppily down on the table for Prim.

"Wow, this is really good! Where'd you get it?" She exclaims, with a full mouth.

"Dolly's. On Maine Street," I mutter, still flat. The little event at Dolly's didn't leave me in the best of moods. I stomp up to my room, without saying another word.

"Mom's coming home at seven," Prim bursts out, in an effort to try and change my mood.

"That's great," I say, then close the door to my room, trying to disappear from everything that's happened.

I flop down on my bed with my ice cream in hand. Damn, that whole brawl I had at the parlour took the life out of me. I sigh loudly into my pillow, letting my voice crack. I look back at my feet to see my black guitar case, leaning against the end of my bed, untouched since I unpacked.

The silence of it just being there is killer- I told myself a long time ago to stop playing the guitar, because it reminds me too much of my father. But no matter what, I can't seem to let go of him. I can no longer go to a shooting range, so I had no problem with letting that go. But everything else of his...

Actually, come to think of it, I didn't really make much of an effort to forget my father. But I guess I really don't want to. A part of me left with him when he died, and since then, I haven't exactly been... the same as I was when he was living.

Before, I liked to learn new things. I enjoyed having responsibilities. I wanted to try to do every possible thing on earth. But then he died, and I didn't really have any insperation, or support. My mother completely shut down, leaving me and Prim to fend for ourselves. Prim spent all the time she could bawling her eyes out in bed. Strangely, she wouldn't let me comfort her. I was the only one who could feed our family at that time. Sure, it was traumatizing to me, but he would've wanted me to not let his death string me along, but to move on with my life ahead of me. So I did our family the huge frickin' favour as caretaker. My mother wasn't gonna come out of her depression for a while, and Prim was always too tear stained to help. I fed us, comforted us, and did my best to bathe Prim and I.

I have a feeling that this family owes me something. I took care of us for a whole month like that. And I didn't even get acknowledged for shit. And so I guess that's the reason why I am how I am today. Lazy. Joking. Aloof. Even a little impatient at times. I've been like that ever since I was eleven, and I gotta tell you- it can really bite you in the ass sometimes. But people leave me alone and let me do my own thing, which is the best part. They don't- they won't- bother me.

That is, if they're not douche bags like the ones in the ice cream shop.

This whole time, I've just been nibbling and knawing away at my ice cream cone while staring at my guitar case, lost in my thoughts.

Finally, I shove the small bit of cone I have left in my mouth and spring forward to grab my guitar. Opening the case brings back good memories I had with my father- playing and singing together on the beach at sunset, singing lullabies to Prim at bedtime, singing at the stream in the forest...

I sigh and carefully take out my sleek, wooden guitar painted red. A light breeze blows on my face through my open window. I sit in the wide sill, letting one of my legs hang down. I tune the guitar back to the way it was and strum a few chords to try and get back into the swing of things. Then I play a few different chords, all in the same progression, instantly remembering the song it came from:

'I don't even know myself at all

I thought I would be happy by now

The more I try to push it, I realize

Gotta let go of control

Gotta let it happen

Gotta let it happen

Gotta let it happen

Just let it happen

It's just a spark,

But it's enough to keep me going

And when it's dark out, no one's around

It keeps going

Every night I try my best to dream

Tomorrow makes it better

I wake up to the cold reality

Not a thing has changed

But it will happen

Gotta let it happen

Gotta let it happen

Gotta let happen

It's just a spark

But it's enough to keep me going

And when it's dark out, no one's around

It keeps going

It's just a spark

But it's enough to keep me going

And when it's dark out, no one's around

It keeps going

And the salt in my wounds isn't burning anymore than it used to

It's not that I don't feel the pain it's just I'm not afraid of hurting anymore

And the blood in these veins isn't pumping less than it ever has

And that's the hope I have, the only thing I know that's keeping me alive

Alive...'

I hear a few snickers from below, and I stop, making me realize that I had been singing the whole time. I glance down, annoyed at whoever interrupted.

The Ice Cream Boys stand bellow, behind the white picket fence, staring up at me.

"What the hell is it you want this time," I complain.

"Well, Finnick and I live right next door," The boy who fought me says.

"That's great, now I can come over and beat your asses in the middle of the night," I retort sarcastically.

"Oh joy, a slumber party!" Finnick cheers. Now I recognize his voice as the one that spoke behind my back at Dolly's.

"I already flipped the bird. Is that not enough to tell you to back off?"

"Damn Finn, she got you good," The boy with brown hair says while Marvel guffaws.

"And who might you be?" I look to brown-hair.

"Gale-Fucking-Hawthorne" he replies coldly.

"Alrighty then, 'Gale-Fucking-Hawthorne', I think I know the reason why you're one of them."

"Enlighten me, Catnip," He jeers at me.

"You seem to have something up your ass, which I assume is a Hawthorne, am I right?" My lips curl up into a sly smile as the all go "Oooh" "Damn" and "Burn".

I have the perfect solution to this and I smile to myself as I strum the guitar and sing in the most melodic voice I possibly can:

"Twinkle, twinkle, little bitches

I will never grant your wishes

While you stand there straight and tall,

I want to kick your fucking balls

Run, run, run away from here,

Or you will end up in tears, "

I hop back off of the window sill onto my bed and slam the window down, shut. They stare up at my window, mouths wide open in shock.

I set my guitar down on my bed, and swivel around to sit against the wall. Then I see the last person I would want to see at this moment standing in the open doorway.

"Hi," Prim says breathlessly.

Oh my God... Did she just hear all that? And I worry about her ears being too innocent for my vocabulary, while she catches me swearing up and down like a sailor. But she actually heard all that...

"Prim... oh my gosh... what are you doing up here?" I try to sound surprised and act like nothing happened, but Prim can just read me like a book.

She just stares at me, wide eyed, and I whisper sadly, "I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, Katniss-"

"How is any of this okay for you-" she interrupts me just when I'm about to lose it.

"It's okay because I thought this might help a little," she holds up a plastic bow and a sheath of fake arrows that I handed down to her. "It doesn't look like they're gonna leave anytime soon, and it wouldn't hurt to give them a few welts, would it?" I smile brightly and go to give her a big hug.

"It would hurt for them..." my voice trails off as I take the bow and the sheath of arrows. But Prim just smiles and replies,

"That's the whole point."

God, I love my baby sister.

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**The song Katniss sings is called Last Hope by Paramore. Y'all should know that I'm obsessed with that band, along with Pentatonix, Avril Lavigne, and a bit of Tori Kelly. **

**Anyways, don't forget to r&r what you think should happen next!**

**XO, **

**-mangobunnies-**


	5. Chapter 5

**Should I do a Cato POV sometime soon? I know its only chapter five, but it really seems like hes should get a POV, but i dont feel like I'm ready quite yet to do one, but if you want me to do one, I will. So I guess we could say... four reviews on this chapter and a Cato POV? yeah, sure. **

** Review if you want one! **

**-mangobunnies- **

**Oh yeah... did anyone else pick up on how Katniss still doesn't know who Cato is, or who the boy living with Finnick is? (Don't worry, they're not gay- you'll find out eventually :) enjoy) **

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_Dear Diary, _

_Well, the only good thing about yesterday that I can see so far was shooting fake arrows at the boys who live on my street. That was good for a couple bruises, for them, and it felt good to shoot a couple of arrows at something living again. But I wonder what their reaction's gonna be the next time they see me. I know I shouldn't be afraid, but I feel like something pretty bad is going to happen to me. _

_But today at school should be a little easier, considering how similar I was to a shadow (literally). I can now go to school without people constantly staring at me like I have two heads. But it it should be fun seeing the boys, I think. Hopefully, they won't do anything worse to me than a welt on the arm... but would they actually do that? _

_Yours Truly, _

_Katniss E. _

I slam my journal shut and stare blankly at the wall in front of my desk. I've barely written anything, and I feel completely hollow inside. I don't really like the idea of the dudes on my block taking revenge on me, and they already saw me singing, which I intended to keep hidden from people...

Well, most people.

I glance at the clock, which reads 7:15. I decide to go for a small jog, since school doesn't start for another hour and a half. I dress in my sweats and a hoodie and head towards the door.

"Leaving so soon?" Prim asks suddenly from her bedroom.

"Look at you, up so early in the morning," I answer back.

"I couldn't go back to sleep- I've been up since 6."

"You can go get ready for school now, since there's no point in getting any more sleep," I suggest, and she grins.

"Way ahead of you." she gets up and sits on her bed to face me at the door, letting me see that she was fully dressed.

"Had breakfast?"

"Ate twenty minutes ago," she replies simply.

"Okay then, I'm going out for a jog. I'll be back at 7:45," And with that, I'm out the door.

~;~

The small, white envelope stares at me in my lap, unopened. I don't know what's keeping me from opening it, I just can't bring myself to unseal the flap and take out the letter inside. I'm not conscious of how I'm just sitting on the ground at the base of a tree outside and just staring at a white envelope. Not that it matters, anyway.

And finally, I take a deep breath and pick up the paper envelope and tear it open. A small, yellow sheet of lined paper is neatly tucked inside, the ink of the writing can sort of be seen from behind it. I slide it out of the pocket the envelope has become and try and make out the messy, careless jumble of letters scrawled off of the lines. After a few minutes of decoding the message, it reads:

_Dear Katniss, _

_Okay, let's make this simple. My name's Aven Casto, and if you want to reply to me, just drop it in your mailbox and I'll pick it up. I'm a guy, and of course, Aven isn't my real name. I'm pretty sure that we eventually have to reveal ourselves to the person we're writing to at some point, but you'll figure it out soon enough. _

_The only hint I'm giving you is: _

_"I like your fire. Keep it burning." _

_-Aven _

_P.S. Don't expect to always see letters this long, this is a one-time-thing- they'll usually only be a few sentences. _

Well, whoever wrote that wrote quite an essay. Or should I say Aven. But the hint he gave me is bugging me like hell at the back of my head. It seems like I've heard it before, but I've only been here for, what, just under a week? I bite my lip, while still thinking of where I've heard it before.

It also seems like I've met Aven before, and not just through a letter. Something doesn't exactly seem quite right...

"Hey!" A loud, familiar voice calls from up ahead, startling me. I turn to see the source of the voice, which is apparently directed toward me. Gale, Finnick, Marvel and the other boy are marching up to me, and they all look really tired. A few of the welts can be just made out on their arms- I can tell that they used makeup to try and cover it.

I stuff the letter into the pocket of my bag, and do my best to glare daggers at them.

"What do you want," It comes out more as a command than a question.

"Something," Gale says.

"Well, unless it's from me I'm not interested."

"Of course it's from you. Who else would it be?" he replies in an irritated tone.

"I dunno, the muffin man," I fire back, sarcastically.

"You choose, we can either do this the hard way or the easy way," Marvel threatens me.

"Marvel, don't," the boy whose name I don't know murmurs to him.

"The easy way sounds pleasant, but the hard way does too. Maybe that's because they're the same thing?" I retort. Finnick snickers while Gale elbows him in the ribs, making him stop immediately.

I sigh heavily, "Just get to the point already."

"Okay," The other boy smiles, then adds, "We want you to do us a favour."

"Hell no," I reply slowly, but surely. "I've flipped the bird, shot arrows at all of you, gave you welts on your arms that stand out like stains on a white shirt, and now you're saying you want a favour from me? That's like asking to be killed, because that'd what's next. Why does it have to be me, of all the people in the school, anyways?"

"Well, boys, who wants to break the news to her, 'cause it sure as hell isn't gonna be me," the boy says to the rest of them. They remain silent.

"No favours? Sure, I'm alright with that option, too," I grin falsely and turn on my heel to leave. Then finally, one of them blurts out,

"We want you to join our band."

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**hope you enjoyed it. Keep your eyes out for more updates coming your way! xo**


	6. Chapter 6

**THANKS TO ALL YOU AWESOME PEOPLE FOR REVIEWING AND ALL THAT LOVELY STUFF LETS TRY TO GET TO FIVE REVIEWS BEFORE THE NEXT CHAPTER! **

**OKAY? OKAY GOODBYE AND ENJOY :) **

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_ "We want you to join our band." _

I scoff at their words in shock and whip around to face them once again.

"Like hell, you do," I respond coldly, but hesitate to leave. For some reason, half of me wants to leave, but the other half is prying at me to stay.

"No, we're serious. Join our band."

"Why would I," It comes out in more of a demanding statement than a question.

"Because we asked you to," Finnick coos.

"What's so great about your band that would make me want to join?" I ask.

"Well, first off you'd be our lead singer," The boy who I still don't know says hesitantly.

"I don't even know who you are, for God sakes!" I exclaim.

He smirks and responds, "Cato."

So this is the douche I have to write to.

"Okay, Cato, why should I, of ALL the people you could have chosen from, be picked to be your lead singer?" I ask.

"Must we give that much information? We've already seen you sing, you weren't even trying, and we don't even have to think twice about it. Is that enough for you?" Gale groans.

"Well why can't you do it yourselves? Can't any of you sing?" I feel like I'm using all these excuses to not join their band. I honestly have no clue as to why, but again, this eager half of me in hanging off of me to try to get me to just go for it.

"Not like you can," Cato comments after a while.

"Well that doesn't mean you can just-" I stop immediately, realizing that I have no idea what I'm going to say, let alone any excuses that haven't been used. It takes a few more moments to realize something else- that I have no reason to not join their band. I sigh heavily, my shoulders slumping forward, as I drone defeatedly.

"What's in it for me."

There's a silence before Marvel responds.

"Oh, you know, the usual fame and fortune," he says arrogantly.

"Examples?"

"You'll be as popular as us," Finnick grins. "Half of the school's girls are after us."

"Is that it?"

"If we're that good, then we'll hit some of the cafes on Maine or something and we'll work from there. Gale's usually good at finding gigs online, aren't 'ya big guy?" Cato teases Gale while Marvel ruffles his hair. Gale's cheeks turn pink as he shakes them off half-heartedly, muttering something else under his breath.

"What music would we perform. Like, rock, pop, or what," I ask in a drawl.

"Oh, just whatever you can find that you can sing and we can play. We knew the Paramore song you were singing yesterday, and if you're cool with stuff like that, we'll do it," Gale waves his hand.

"Practice-" I begin, but Cato cuts me off.

"Today after school. Meet at the front gate at ten after three, If you're interested."

"I'll think about it," I say slyly and smirk.

"Just text us if you-" Cato begins to take out his phone when I burst out,

"Not a chance."

Then I turn on my heel and walk with my head high towards the school without looking behind me to see their reactions.

It's 2:45 when the teacher lets us talk for the rest of the class.

I'm sort of glad that I have no one to talk to, because the only thing on my mind is whether to go to the practice or not.

I mean, I want to go, but the thing is, I don't trust them. The boys. At all. They act like I've known them for years. I don't think they get it.

But at the same time, I want to join the band. Maybe it's because I don't really make an effort to make any friends. At my old school, everyone knew everyone, but no one had any friends that they called friend friends.

"Hi. Your names Katniss... right?" a shy but sly voice says from beside my desk, snapping me out of my thinking.

"Hm?- oh... yeah. Um... yeah, I am," I hesitate. The girl who asked is a short girl with brown hair and freckles who looks innocent, but at the same time, deadly.

"I'm Clove. You're new here, right?"

"Brand new."

"Where'd you come from?" she takes an unused chair from another desk and sits next to me.

"Canada," I respond simply. "West coast."

"Interesting," she gazes out the window distantly. I shift uncomfortably at the awkward silence that follows, but soon break it by asking,

"Do you know who Cato, Gale, Finnick, and Marvel are?"

"Oh, everyone does. They're the most popular boys in the school," she exclaims enthusiastically.

"What are they popular for?" I question. If this girl can give me more information, it'll sway my decision of whether to go to the practice or not.

"First of all, they're all perceived as sex gods of the eleventh grade," she states like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and I silently scoff. Sex gods my ass.

"Second of all, Cato got popular for a while in the music world. Some producer found out about him a few years ago when they went scouting for university scholarships. He hit it big for a while, and when he came back to school, his popularity status went through the roof," she says.

"Good to know," I nod to her.

"If you ask me, they act like they're better than they really are. It's been like three years since his e.p. skyrocketed, but he's still acting like everyone still wants an autographed copy. There's nothing really that special about them, if you think about it," she shrugs.

"True. Very true," I remark.

"Have you heard anything else about the group in general? Like, rumors or anything?" I ask.

"I don't see any point in spreading rumors, but there was one going around for a while that they were trying to make a band. Apparently, they have a pretty sick ass lounge where they practice. They don't let anyone else in besides themselves, always being so secretive about it all,"

"Okay," I respond.

For the rest of the time, Clove and I just create small talk, and by the time the bell rings, it's clear to both of us that we won't make the best of friends.

As I exit the classroom, I remember: I only have ten minutes to decide whether to go to the practice or not.

Well, hopefully Clove's information made a good enough impression on me.

"Marvel, hook up the speakers to my phone. Gale, get the snacks I told you to get. Finnick and I'll help you set up the instruments," Cato instructs me half and hour later.

The practice lounge is exactly how Clove described it. The walls are painted a deep purple with neon paint splattered over it. A large bright orange platform is in the far left corner, with a deep red drum set, two guitars on stands, and an acoustic guitar case. Speakers are built high on the walls almost on the ceiling, and three mic stands are in the corner off of the platform. A tv is in the other corner with a lounge sofa and beanbag chairs along with a mini fridge.

Once everything is set up, the boys all walk to their preferred instrument- Cato and Finnick on the electric guitars, Gale on the drums, and Marvel on the bass.

I go to grab a microphone, but Cato stops me.

"You watch," he says, looking me straight in the eye with his hand around my wrist. "You learn."

"I don't need to be told twice," I growl through clenched teeth, wrenching out of his grip. I plop myself on one of the beanbage chairs, dropping my messenger bag on the sofa.

"Any requests?" Finnick purrs.

I try my best to ignore him as I think of a song.

"Use Somebody by Kings of Leon sound good?" I speak finally.

"Alright," Cato comments. "Actually, you go ahead and sing it. Make it a duet," he winks at me as he throws me an extra mic.

"Don't push your luck," I smirk as I grab a mic stand. I stand at the front like I've seen most lead singers do in bands, but Cato corrects me again.

"Face us. You're the one performing,"

"Oh, okay boss," I say mockingly, and Cato scoffs.

"Let's just do this and be done with it," he says flatly. And when they begin, it doesn't actually sound that bad. Let's just see how my singing works with it.

_'I've been roaming around always looking down at all I see _

_Painted faces fill the places I can't reach _

_You know that I could use somebody _

_You know that I could use somebody _

_Someone like you and all you know and how you speak _

_Countless lovers undercover of the streets _

_You know that I could use somebody _

_You know that I could use somebody _

_Someone like you _

_Off in the night while you live it up I'm off to sleep _

_Waging wars to shape the poet and the beat _

_I hope it's gonna make you notice _

_I hope it's gonna make you notice _

_Someone like me _

_Someone like me _

_Someone like me _

_Somebody _

_I'm ready, I'm ready _

_I'm ready, I'm ready _

_Someone like you, somebody _

_Someone like you, somebody _

_Someone like you, somebody _

_I've been roaming around always looking down at all I see'. _

When we finish the song, everyone's smiling, including me. It all worked. The band, my voice, it all fits in perfectly.

"So," Cato announces finally. "You in or out?"

I absolutely can't stop grinning as I say the next word, which seals everything:

"In."

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	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you guys sooo much for the reviews you gave me last chapter, they're great :)**

**SO NOW HERE'S CHAPTER SEVEN :D**

**In this chapter, there are a few small segments that might feel a little disconnected or disjointed at times. Don't worry! I know we can pull through it!**

**And again, thanks for everything! Lets try to get at least five REVIEWS for this next one! Happy reading! ^^**

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_Dear Cato,_

_Just be glad you got a girl who doesn't see you as a sex god of the eleventh grade._

_Yours Truly,_  
_Ree (nickname)_

~;~

_Dear diary,_

_Let's make this quick and easy for you. I joined a band. An actual, live, soon-to-be-performing band, who plays their own music. The members: me and the baboons-of-next-door. Practice venue: a storage room rented out from a company that once owned the warehouse, which is now transformed into a goddamn lounge. _  
_Bottom line: God help us._

_Yours truly,_

_Katniss E._

~;~

The bell rings as I march straight into English and drop the note into Cato's mailbox, then pick up the note inside of mine. I take my usual seat at the back of the room and prepare myself for the droning lectures the teacher is about to give.

After a few minutes, everyone begins to get restless, and I decide to open up my letter. It reads:

_Dear Katniss,_

_I don't even know what you're supposed to say in these things... "Hi I'm Aven let's be friends when you don't even know me"? Seriously..._

_-Aven_

I smile into my lap where the note is being read, and silently fold it up.

"Ms. Everdeen, would you care to read the next page for us, since you seem focused so," The teacher says from the front of the room. _Shit, what?_

_"_Umm... wh-wha...?" I say completely confused. I blush as the class giggles and snickers at me.

"Care to pay more attention to your textbook?" The teacher looks at me from over his specs as I mutter,

"Yes, sir."

~;~

I sit at the same tree I did yesterday for lunch, and jot down any ideas that come to me for song lyrics. I have to do something in my free time- and I guess this is a good way to keep me occupied from my growing hunger. I forgot my lunch once again and my wallet's been completely emptied out.

I chew my pen cap nervously, reading what I wrote so far:

_And I'd give up forever to touch you,_  
_'Cause I know that you feel me somehow_  
_'You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be,-'_

'I'll ever be' what? I read the few lines over and over again, trying to make sense of it all, but nothing comes to mind. But I have an idea of the melody and stuff, and it fits in perfectly.

"Hey, Girl on Fire," A familiar voice says from above my head. I look up to see just Cato, by himself.

"Hey, yourself," I respond nonchalantly.

"What are we up to here?" he tries to sit down next to me and peek at my songbook, but I snap it shut and put my hand on the ground next to me.

"Who said you could sit?" I narrow my eyes at him, and he laughs.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. So would you like me to stand instead?"

I hesitantly retreat my hand to my lap, and he sits himself in the same spot.

"Why are you here, even? Where's Marvel? And Finnick and Gale?" I ask after a long awkward silence.

"They're doing some shit for our music teacher. He's pretty excited to meet you, since you skipped his last class," he says cooly.

"Why aren't you with them?"

"'Cause I wasn't showing my lazy ass, unlike them," Cato does a half-smirk, and I can tell he's trying to amuse me. I give him an eye roll in response.

"So, what's in the book?" He asks, gesturing towards my songbook.

"Oh, this? Well, it's- just... um..." I stare down at the black cover, as blank as my thoughts as to what else it might be.

"Come on, what's so bad with telling me," he grins before adding, "Sex god of eleventh grade?"

So he got my note. I can tell he liked my quote, and a lot. It might not have been for the better when I wrote that...

"I dunno, you might pamper me with too many questions," I shrug.

"I thought I already did."

"Yeah, you do."

"I'll stop if you show me," He smiles, as if trying to charm me.

"You don't have to say it twice," I look down, and burry my face into the book, looking for a good page to show him. I feel my cheeks getting hotter, and I can't control the smile that slowly creeps across my face.

"You're blushing," Cato says excitedly.

"Yeah, so?" The embarrassed smile has spread all over myself now, and I let it show.

"So, I made you blush, is that not something you would take pride in?"

"Do you want to see this or not," I look as seriously as I can at him, then crack a friendly smile as I look away. I come to the page that I just finished writing on. Suddenly, an idea pops into my head, and I quickly scrawl it down on the page.

"Do I get to see it yet?" Cato again tries to peek at what I'm writing, and this time I let him.

"I write songs in here, my songbook," I mutter nervously from behind the pages.

"Wow, this is really good," Cato comments after reading the lines.

"Thanks."

"I have a few ideas for it too, if you wouldn't mind," he says as shyly as I guess Cato can.

"Um, okay," I hand the pencil to him and he scribbles something else a few lines down.

_And I don't want the world to see me_  
_'Cause I don't think that they'd understand_  
_When everything's meant to be broken_  
_I just want you to know who I am_

"It's even better than mine," I whisper in awe. It somehow even fits into the melody in my head. "Thanks."

"Hey, there's lots more where that came from," he states, going back to his arrogant self.

"Oh really? Really?" I respond, flipping through the previously pages quickly. I smirk at his blank expression and smirk_._

_"Same."_

We talk for the next half hour, about past music experiences, song writing, the band, and other things. He gives me his apple, which also happens to be his only lunch. But unfortunately, the bell rings, ending our free time.

We walk into the building together, and he says, "So... I guess I'll see you at music then...?"

"Um, yeah, sure," I avoid his gaze, feeling awkward.

"Okay. Well, see ya around," he gives me a smile and I feel myself blush again as he waves at me.

"Wait, Cato!" I whip around, calling back to him. He looks at me, and I stutter,

"Um, ah.. Thanks. For... For the apple. A-and the song ideas, too. Those were absolutely amazing," I smile shyly, and mentally slap myself for it. What the hell is going on with me?

"No problem. That's what friends are for, right?" he gives me a toothy grin and a small playful punch in the arm.

"Sorry, I gotta bolt, see ya!" he waves and disappears.

"Yeah," I mutter under my breath as I continue down the corridor.

_That's what friends are for._

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**How was it? Sorry if it was too short. Thanks so much for the reviews! See you next chappie! -xo**


	8. Chapter 8

here's chapter 8 :) sorry it's been a while, cuz u know... School. :/ But here it is!

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The bell rang a few minutes ago, signalling the end of our penultimate period. Now it was time for the last: Music.

I gulp as I make my way down the hall towards the music room. Half of the classroom is filled with students sitting at tables. Not desks, like most classes, but tables. I sit myself down at an empty one, and wait quietly for the next few minutes.

The teacher wants to meet me. He's actually taken the time to know that I'm in his class, and he wants to meet me.

He's not here yet, but everyone's stirring excitedly in anticipation of either music or the end of the day, it's sort of hard to know which one.

"Oi! Katniss!" Marvel yells boisterously as he walks swiftly into the room. He plops himself into a chair loudly and talks to me that way. "So how's life?"

"Not so bad. Yourself?" I mutter in a low voice. By now, most of the people in the room have turned to look at me and Marvel in disdain. I try my best to ignore it.

"Just dandy, thank you for asking!" He bellows, followed by guffawing.

"Well, that was quite the entrance, there," I give a small, goofy smile.

"Yes indeed, it was," he replies a little quieter, taking my hint. Then he changes the subject.

"So I heard you and Cato were hitting it up at lunch."

"We so weren't," I scoff.

"Oh, but you were. Sharing ideas, I think," he smirks.

"Sharing ideas my ass. We were just talking!" I say a bit too defensively.

"Or were you?" He gives a fake and dramatic gasp and I shove him playfully.

"You little crockashit, nothing hap-"

"Hey," I whip around to see Finnick and Gale standing behind me, smirking.

"Holy sh- how much did you hear?" I ask cautiously.

"I dunno, you tell me," Gale replies mysteriously, which just pisses me off even more.

"Okay, you heard nothing then!" I exclaim.

"So be it," Finnick shrugs and they sit in the two chairs across from us at our table. "So where's Cato?" I ask suddenly.

"If he's not here a fifteen seconds after the bell, then he's skipping."

"I thought we had band practice after school...?"

"Yeah, we do." Marvel answers.

"He has the key to the lounge."

"Yeah, he does."

"Then we can't practice without him."

"Yeah, we can't."

"Then where the hell is he?"

"He'll still come, don't worry Catnip," Gale smirks.

"And if he doesn't?"

"Woah, so eager. Calm down girl, you're talking about the guy I live with," Finnick replies.

I fake-gasp dramatically. "You guys are gay?! I knew it!"

"No, he just needs a place to stay for a while," Finnick looks a little bothered, but he'll get over it.

The bell rings, and Marvel mutters, "Let the countdown begin."

One. Two. Three...

"Good afternoon everyone. Today, we will begin a new project, like I had mentioned last class."

Eight. Nine. Ten...

"You will be writing a song-"

Thirteen. Fourteen...

Then, at that moment, Cato bursts through the door, sitting at our table without another word. He keeps his head down, to avoid any extra attention.

"Oh, Cato, good of you to join us. I reckon you won't be late in the future?"

"Yes, Cinna. My apologies," Cato mutters.

"Anyways, as I was saying, we will be starting a new project. It is your task to write a song for us, whether it be by yourself, or with a group, no more than five. It must be at least one minute long. Bonus marks go out if there is musical accompaniement written. The topics may be of your choice, and genre, likewise. I want you all to explore the different styles of music, see which one suits yourself, and have fun with it." Cinna's eyes flit to Marvel. "There must be some singing, or else full marks cannot be rewarded."

"You will have the rest of the period to brainstorm any ideas you may have. Use it wisely! This will be due Friday of next week," and just like that, he dismisses us.

"Cinna seems like a really good guy," I say in a low voice to my table.

"Yeah, he is, that's why everyone likes him," Finnick mutters back, loud enough for the five of us to hear.

"Miss Everdeen, can I speak with you for a minute?" Cinna calls from the front.

I gulp. "Seemed like a really good guy," I mumble to myself as I rise from my chair. He leads me to an empty corner of the room, and he begins to talk. He sounds concerned.

"I think you skipped my last class. Am I right?" I look down on the ground, trying to avoid eye contact with him. "Why did you do that?"

"Um... can we just say it's personal?" I hesitate.

"Look, I know what happened with your dad. Remember, we're talking about a world-wide phenomenon in music, here. No one from your generation would care, but I don't think they don't know something about him."

I nod, not knowing how to answer. My father was a famous singer, and he featured me in one of his songs, which was a hit. Before he died, he gave me his guitar, wanting me to live on with music. But I just couldn't, not without him. My mother shut down completely, and I had to fend off for our family. And I guess, I really hadn't moved on. But the band last night was a real eye opener...

"Katniss, you have to move on from the past. I know that's hard coming from someone like me, who you've never met, but he wanted you to move on. That's why he gave you the guitar," Cinna pleads. I look at him questioningly, and he explains,

"That was also from the press."

"I'll move on. I might have already, in fact..." my eyes flit in the direction of the boys back at my table, and he laughs.

"I see you've made friends already. Katniss, just make sure you follow your heart, and not where others tell it to go," he gives me a small smile and dismisses me with a pat on the shoulder.

"What the hell was that about?" Gale asks me when I return.

"Skipping class. He bailed me out though, so it's all good," I think back to what he said about my father. I mean, he was famous, but that doesn't mean you go talking about him like that...

"Okay, I think we should start discussing our band name," Marvel changes the subject. "How's Marvelous sound?"

"Hell no!" The rest of us exclaim, recieving stares from others near by. Cato glares at them, and they quickly turn their heads away.

"Trident?" Finnick's eyes gleam, but then I say, "It sounds good, but doesn't really make any sense."

"The Careers?" Cato suggests, but Gale declines the idea.

"Nightlock?" Gale asks, and we all consider it. "Maybe. It sounds pretty good for a band, but there might be other ones we can think of."

"What about you Catnip, got any ideas for us?" Gale smirks at the nickname, and I scowl jokingly. "It's Katniss, you prick."

I pull out a sheet of ideas I made and smack it down on the table. Finnick reads them out loud:

"Mockingjay, Riot, Rebellion, Now You See Me... wait, 'Now You See Me'?"

"You know, it sounded... well, cool, so I put it down," I shrug.

"Okay. Well, knowing everyone here, I think we've made a desicion," Cato grins.

"What the hell? Give me time to at least think about my own ideas!" I pretend to snap.

"So on three, we all say what we want," Gale says after a few moments.

"One. Two-"

"Riot!" Four of us say.

"Marvelous!" We laugh and punch Marvel playfully on his arm, Cato giving him a noogie

"Riot it is!" Marvel whoops, and Cinna shushes him.

We talk about the song, and what it's gonna be about, but decide on talking about it in the lounge later on. So we goof off for the next forty-five minutes, not really knowing what to do.

And finally the bell rings, and the first thing I think of is

Let the riot begin.

* * *

I know it's not much for a chapter, but it was sort of a filler. I PROMISE for a better chapter next time! Please DM me if you have any thoughts or ideas for this- i think i may need some help with the chapters to come.

Reviews are always good! thanks so much for all the support so far, you are all amazing! See you next chappie! xo


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